Blessed Are Those
by Kimberton
Summary: AU: When a woman is found stabbed to death in her remote farmhouse, new team member Jack Hodgson finds himself drawn into an unusually emotional case.
1. Chapter 1

Last night he'd dreamed of sunflowers. A field full, all swaying gently in the breeze. Time seemed to stretch out forever beyond them as he lay in the grass and listened to her laughing. The sunlight was warm on his eyelids, her fingertips soft in his palm. In his dream, he was both himself and observing himself. He watched from a distance as he turned over to face her, feeling as he rested his hand over her belly. He'd felt an overwhelming urge to protect her ever since she'd told him. It was an instinct that felt like he was falling in love with her for a second time. He smoothed his hand over her bump - the baby was kicking, which was only making her laugh more. He saw a smile grow wide on his own lips, and felt his heartbeat strong inside his chest.

In his dream, he was certain that this was a real memory; a vivid recollection of a perfect afternoon they'd spent together. His senses were overloaded with minute detail. He could smell the flowers' heavy scent in the air, feel the blades of grass tickle his bare neck. He could even feel the crease in her dress where his hand lay over the seam. Why would he ever imagine that?

The crime scene was remote. He'd been driving for nearly 40 minutes, completely lost in the fields and stone tracks. At least the sun was almost up, casting a watery glow over the hilltops. He'd hadn't been surprised to see that there was still snow covering the ground this far up. He smiled wryly to himself, remembering how he'd told Ruth that it'd be all skyscrapers and wifi once they moved to London. He was glad that no one back in Yorkshire could see him now, completely outwitted by his Sat Nav. His farmer mates would never let him live it down.

He squinted through the windscreen, certain he'd caught a glimpse of blue lights over the crest of the next hill. Surely that had to be it.

"Jack Hodgson, forensics."

"Ah, at last. Dr Alexander - Nikki - pathologist. Nice to meet you."

She was pretty. Very pretty. Jack tried hard not to notice.

"I'm almost finished here."

"Great. What do we know so far?"

"Victim is Caroline Mayhew, age 34. She was stabbed several times in the chest and abdomen with a sharp object, probably a knife..."

"No one's found the weapon?"

"Not yet... I'd say she's been dead somewhere around 8 to 10 hours, although I'll confirm that after the post mortem."

"Is it just the one?" he asked, nodding towards the body.

"So far. Her little girl's missing."

"Missing... Not dead." It was a statement, not a question, Nikki noticed.

"Yes," she said slowly, "but there's also blood in the girl's room and I'm confident that this body wasn't moved after the attack."

Jack raised an eyebrow.

"I'd better start up there then."

Nikki shook her head as she watched him make his way towards the stairs. She reminded herself that she was a professional. It didn't matter how tall, dark and Irish someone was...

The house was falling apart, as Jack knew all old farm houses were. The wallpaper was old and dull, and peeling slightly in the corners. The carpet on the stairs was past its best, the garish 90s design hardly distinguishable between the worn through bare patches. Jack made a mental note to take photos of the blood spatter on each step on his way back down.

As he got to the top of the stairs, the metallic smell of blood momentarily gave way to a faint trace of damp, covered over with cheap floral air freshener. For a second, Jack was back in his dream, surrounded by sunflowers. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Opening them again, he noticed that although the house was run-down, it was also completely spotless. No dust, no dirt, no stains. Someone was obviously trying their best to keep up appearances despite their circumstances. He wondered if it was the woman downstairs who had tried so hard to make the place nice, and suddenly felt a pang of sadness. It was strange the things that connected you at a crime scene - the tiny details that humanised the bodies and made them more than just a victim, but an actual person with an actual life. For a strange moment, he could see her - feather duster in hand, reaching for cobwebs.

"You're losing it, Jack" he muttered, as he strode purposefully to the first room on the right. He gripped his kit bag tighter in his hand. Time to get his science head on.

_[So this is my first fan fic in about 10 years! Sorry for any errors or whatnot, I was just having fun writing again. I'll post the next chapter soon if anyone wants it]_


	2. Chapter 2

The bedroom was just as run down as the rest of the house. It was cold - he noticed the curtains flutter slightly despite the window being shut. Single glazing in winter was not ideal. He glanced away from the bloodstain on the rug by the bed, choosing to focus first on the smaller details that might be more easily missed. On one wall, there was a collection of drawings, pinned into the wallpaper with thumbtacks. Some were just crayon scribbles, others showed a house with a smoking chimney and windy path. A family of stick men with giant smiles beamed out at him - each of the three figures a different colour. Underneath in shaky writing were the words "by Alice age 4". A streak of blood underlined it.

Clenching his jaw, Jack shook his head and set his kit down on the floor. Sometimes, he really hated his job.

He'd been busy for a good few minutes when he heard it. It was a tiny noise, so small that at first it hardly registered with him at all. After a while though, something in his subconscious nudged at him, and he realised with a jolt of his heart what he was hearing. It was the sound of a whimpering child.

Carefully, he put down the sample bag he was holding, and cocked his head towards the bed beside him. The blankets reached all the way to the floor, blocking his view of whatever was beneath. When he thought back on it later, he imagined that this was the point at which he'd started shaking, but in reality that only came after. Here, in the moment, he was acting on auto-pilot - he'd only feel the shock afterwards.

Slowly, he started to reach out to pull back the blanket, but was stopped by a knock at the door.

"I was just thinking..." Nikki trailed off as she watched Jack put his finger to his lips, then point to the bed. Her eyes widened in horror as she realised what she could hear.

"Is that...?" she whispered. Jack nodded, before turning his attention back to the bed. This time, he hesitated, and instead of reaching out, he sat down with his back leaning on the frame.

"Hello," he said, clearly enough that his voice wouldn't be too muffled by the blankets, "My name's Jack."

The crying stopped, and there was a small pause. Jack looked up at Nikki, who simply shrugged.

"It's alright, you're safe. Can you tell me your name?"

"Please don't come in"

"Nah, I won't come in. It's a bit too dark for me under there... Are you Alice?"

"...yes"

"Hello Alice. That's a lovely wee name. Much prettier than Jack anyway!"

Another pause.

"Alice, do you think you might be hurt? Because I have a friend here who can help you."

Nikki threw Jack a panicked look, but he just raised his eyebrows and shook his head.

"Paramedics downstairs?" he mouthed silently. Nikki shook her head and turned towards the door, reaching into her pocket for her phone.

Slowly, from beneath the bed, a small hand reached out to move back the blankets. Jack held them up and craned his neck to see underneath, being careful to stay otherwise as still as possible.

She was tiny, even for her age. Her eyes were red from crying, her pupils wide in fear. Her brown hair was matted in patches around her face, and her left cheek was streaked with dried blood. She gazed at Jack, who was reminded of a startled rabbit he'd caught in his headlights on the way here. He forced himself to smile at the girl, even though his heart was pounding so hard he could hear it, and every instinct was telling him to scoop her in his arms and take her as far away from this place as possible.

"It's ok. Do you think you might be hurt?" he repeated gently. Alice nodded.

"My friend has phoned for an ambulance," he gestured over to Nikki, noticing how the girl flinched at his movement. "They'll be here soon."

"Will they take me away?"

"They might have to take you to see the doctor at the hospital..."

But he knew, really, that wasn't what she'd meant.

"Alice, are you bleeding anywhere?"

"No..."

Jack and Nikki exchanged looks. The rug by Jack's feet was stained dark red...


End file.
